Spill the Beans
by briwd
Summary: An alternate universe Rizzles story, set in Chipperback's Willa Catherverse at Alternate History. While New England Intelligence agent Jane Rizzoli works with Boston PD on a cold case, she and her wife, Massachusetts Chief Medical Examiner Maura Isles, decides enough is enough regarding Giovanni Gilberti, and that it's time to spill the beans to him about their marriage. WIP.
1. Prologue

**SPILL THE BEANS**

**Prologue**

**Bradlee's Department Store**

**Boston, Massachusetts Region**

**United Commonwealth of New England**

Giovanni Gilberti was a man on a mission. He didn't know what exactly he wanted, and didn't know where he'd find it, but he was resolute: he would win Jane Rizzoli's heart.

He paced all over the Bradlee's SuperStore in Quincy, starting in the deli section, then through grocery; the women's clothing section; shoes; toys; electronics; sporting goods; and home & garden.

Discouraged, Giovanni sat down in the books section. Maybe Jane likes to read?

_WHIRLING DARVISH: THE UNAUTHORIZED STORY OF THE 2014 WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS BOSTON RED SOX_

"Maybe she'll like that," he said, tossing the book in the cart next to the tortilla chips and nacho cheese dip.

_DO YOU WALK FREEDOM'S ROAD?_

_30 NEW ENGLANDERS TELL OF THEIR EXPERIENCES WITH HUMAN RIGHTS ACTIVIST MALCOLM LITTLE_

"Jane's not the history type," Giovanni said to himself, putting the book back on the shelf. Another book caught his eye.

_JFK_

_THE UCNE NAVY'S GREATEST ADMIRAL_

"Kid's book," he said. "Maybe if Jane and me have a kid." Giovanni from time to time wondered what it'd be like to be a dad.

He went to the fiction section, and picked up the first book he saw.

_WHAT IF? 15 AUTHORS SPECULATE HOW SAVING FDR COULD HAVE SAVED THE UNITED STATES_

Giovanni found himself nodding off to sleep. A few moments later, he was woken by a sales associate.

"Sir? Sir? Are you alright?" She shook his arm, gently, until Giovanni came to.

"Oh…uh…yeah! Yeah, I'm cool," he said, waking up. "Did I…did I go to sleep?"

"Um, yeah," said the young, 19-year-old African-Confederate girl, whose nametag said JAYCIE. "I guess you've had a long day?"

"Yeah, you could say that," he replied, and told her of going all over the Boston area to find a present for a woman he liked. He wanted something that she would never forget, and would show his love for her.

"I know just the trick," Jaycie said, and grabbed his wrist and drug him towards the toy section.

**Boston**

**Jane Rizzoli and Maura Isles' home**

Agent Jane Rizzoli had one hell of a week, and all she wanted to do was enjoy the weekend with her wife and forget all about the Confederate scumbag who had NEI-6 and Boston PD scrambling.

No rooftops, no screaming lunatics, and no crying teenaged girls reunited with their frantic parents, thankful their daughter was home and not servicing a Confederate or Soviet businessman in Buckhead – or Guyana – or Moscow.

Her alarm rang. She looked over in bed, to find Maura's side empty, and then noticed the faint smell of coffee. She put on her slippers, and walked down their stairs in her silk pajamas to the kitchen, where she saw the love of her life preparing one of her fancy coffees in that fancy coffee machine she ordered from Starbucks in Greater California.

To Jane, Maura – early in the morning, even without makeup, wearing her satin kimono – looked like a million pounds.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Maura said, pouring Jane and herself a cup of coffee.

"Morning, hon," Jane said, walking over to give Maura a peck on the mouth, then accepting the cup and plate Maura handed her. "This one of your fancy coffee brews?"

"No," Maura said. "I considered brewing a pot of Arabica coffee I purchased from the Malayan Union. But with the week we've had, I concluded you would best enjoy a simpler coffee: Rio, from Brazil."

Jane looked at her funny, then took a couple of sips. "Hold on. You purchased coffee from the Malayan Union?"

"Yes," Maura said matter-of-factly. "I contacted a shop in Kuala Lumpur – the one we stopped at on our way back from Shanghai – and asked them to ship me one months' supply of their Arabica and Pacifica brews."

"Why not go down to the store and get your 'Arabica' and 'Pacifica' brews, Maur?"

"Because I wanted the distinctive Malayan brews, which local shops and 'stores' as you suggested, could not replicate," Maura replied.

"Did you call some coffee shop in Brazil to get this?" Jane said, holding up her cup.

"No. I drove down to Sainsbury's," Maura said. "I looked high and low for a decent supermarket brew. I REFUSE to buy that sludge you bought there a month ago—"

"Maur!" Jane said, putting down her cup and rummaging through the kitchen cabinets: as she suspected, all of the instant coffee she bought during a rare trip to the supermarket was gone. "Maura! You threw it all out! That was good coffee!"

"No, this is good coffee" – Maura said, pointing to the Rio label on the Sainsbury's coffee box – "and this is grand, delicious coffee" – pointing to the boxes of Malayan coffee on the floor. "And I didn't throw it out. I donated it."

"Donated it? To whom?"

"Boston Police Homicide."

"Homicide?...no wonder they had all that extra coffee – that was my coffee!" Jane whined.

"That was your sludge," Maura said, smiling, handing Jane back her cup. "THIS is your coffee. Now drink before it gets cold, while I prepare a healthy breakfast."

"A 'healthy' breakfast?" Jane said. "Right now I'm in the mood for some eggs and bacon and toast…FRIED."

"Fried foods are unhealthy," Maura said. "We'll eat oatmeal with blueberries, multigrain waffles with jam made from strawberries—"

The door bell rang.

"Oh, Jane would you get that?" Maura said. "That may be my Arabian coffee shipment."

"Arabian coffee?" Jane said, walking to the door as the doorbell rang a second time. "From where?"

"The Trucial Arabian Republic," Maura replied, and Jane stopped in her tracks, rolling her eyes, as the doorbell rang a third time. "I'M COMING. HOLD ON."

She opened the door, and saw nothing but fluffy, pink velvet and what she thought might be a couple of stumps.

"What the hell?" Jane said, looking at the sight, then pushing against the velvet. A couple of moments later, a young girl with a Bradlee's cap appeared between the doorway and the velvet.

"Are you Jane Rizzoli?" she said, pushing forward a MacPad with a tablet pen attached to the side. "Please sign here."

"Not until I know what I'm signing for – what in hell IS that?" Jane said, as Maura joined her.

"That's a Vermont Cuddly Bear, An Official Product of the Republic of Vermont," Bradlee's Girl said.

"Wow. That's supposed to impress me?" replied Jane, as Maura stepped forward and took the tablet. "I'm Maura Isles, Jane's wife. Can I sign for the…what IS that?"

"A giant pink velvet Vermont Cuddly Bear that can barely fit through our front door," Jane said, as Maura signed for the package. "Why is that thing here? Who sent it?"

Bradlee's Girl took the tablet, tapped a few times, and found what she was looking for. "This is a gift from a Giovanni Gilberti."

Jane rolled her eyes in exasperation, and Maura was confused. "Why would Giovanni send you a Vermont Cuddly Bear?"

"That's a good question, Dr. Isles," Jane said, turning to Bradlee's Girl. "Did Giovanni give a reason why he'd send Fluffy Bearzilla to our house?"

"There's a note," Bradlee's Girl said, and tapped on her MacPad. "Here it is...

_Roses are Red_

_Violets are Blue_

_This bear is Pink_

_And I like you Jane."_

Maura and Jane looked at each other, as Bradlee's Girl whistled, and Pink Cuddly Bear was pushed through the door by a man who looked like he could play linebacker for the Boston Redcoats.

Both Bradlee's Girl and Bradlee's Guy nodded, said their goodbyes, and left before Jane could chase them down and make them take the bear back to Giovanni's garage.

Instead, Jane and Maura were left to stare at the bear, laying on its side, looking every bit as big as a horse.

"God, Maura," Jane said. "What are we going to do with Bearzilla?"

"What are WE going to do about Giovanni?" said Maura, who endured her share of advances from the guy before Jane put her foot down – and became the object of Giovanni's desire.

"We're gonna spill the beans," Jane said. "We're going to tell him what he apparently can't get from a wedding notice in the Boston Dispatch."

**Jane Rizzoli, New England Intelligence Agent**

**Dr. Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner, Massachusetts Region, United Commonwealth of New England**

**Barry Frost, Detective, Homicide, Boston Police Department and NEI Consultant**

**Frankie Rizzoli, Detective, Homicide, Boston Police Department**

**Angela Rizzoli, Jane's mom and Maura's mother in law**

**Vince Korsak, Detective, Homicide, Boston Police Department**

**rizzoli & isles**

**NOTE**: Special thanks to Chipperback at Alternate History for his graciously allowing me the use of his Willa Catherverse as the setting of this alternate universe version of rizzoli & isles.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's preface:** Long story short, this story is Rizzles set in an alternate universe, where the U.S. broke apart in the 1930s and Canada in the late 1970s. North America at present is split into several countries, including the United Commonwealth of New England (which Rizzles live in), and a Confederate States in the former Southeast (the UCNE's, and the Free World's, greatest enemy). That - and the survival of Barry Frost, plus Jane and Maura in a marital relationship - are the main differences between this story and current TV show continuity. Otherwise, the characters are the same as canon. Any questions, message me – if I can't answer them, I'll point you in the right direction. - BD

**Chapter 1**

**Boston Police Department**

**Division One **

**Homicide Department**

It was Monday, and Barry Frost was supposed to be working on a cold case.

To observers, he looked like he was playing with that Japanese robot action figure he bought off Ebay, ignoring the open folder on his desk.

He was still thinking about that wreck. One blown tire was the difference between a broken leg and the grave. He tried not to think about the accident too often, any more than his suspicions that it wasn't an accident.

"Agent Rizzoli?"

Frost looked up from his thoughts at the delivery man holding a box.

"I'm Detective Frost. Agent Rizzoli isn't here yet," said the Homicide detective. "Something I can help you with?"

"I have a package for Agent Rizzoli," the man replied, putting the box on Rizzoli's desk, then pulling out a tablet. "Sign here."

After a phone call to Security, verifying the delivery man - and the box - had gone through the metal detectors downstairs, Frost signed for the package, sat down after the man left, and licked his lips.

He didn't have long to wait. He could hear Jane from the moment she walked off the elevator.

"Ma...no, Ma! Don't call the cops! He's NOT a threat...Ma, he's harmless...and dense. He's dense but harmless...Ma, no, Frankie's at a crime scene, don't call...Ma...no. Don't go, don't go PLEASE stay home and DON'T GO-MA! MA! MA!"

Frost heard the dial tone from Jane's cell as she reached her desk.

"Arrrrrgggghhhh!" she grunted, tossing herself in her chair, directly across from Frost.

"Everything alright, Jane?" Frost asked.

"No," Jane said. "Ma wants Giovanni put in jail."

"Giovanni? Why?"

"All those stupid presents he's been sending me. Ma thinks it's harassment and wants him put in jail-"

"She has a point."

"'She has a point'? Frost. This is Giovanni we're talking about. Not some dirtbag-"

Frost pointed to the box on Jane's desk.

"What in hell is this?" Jane muttered, and a few moments later rolled her eyes and grunted out another "Arrrrrggggghhhh!"

Frost leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. "Your mother has a point, Jane. What'd he get you this time?...and it's okay to open. Security ran it; the package wouldn't have gotten this far otherwise."

"At least we know it's not a bomb," Jane said, as she pulled an Exacto utility knife out of her desk drawer. A few moments later, she found out what was in the box:

Bacon chocolate.

"Why're you licking your lips, Frost?" Jane said.

"I overslept 20 minutes. Cut out breakfast, just so I wouldn't run late," he replied. "If you have a problem eating Giovanni's gift, I don't...I AM a little hungry."

Jane put her nagging concern that something was off with her friend to the side, and looked at the address on the package: it was Giovanni's home address, and there was a note attached, which Jane proceeded to open.

_Dear Jane,_

_I hope you like the bacon chocolate. It's international, too. A special snack for a special girl. Giovanni._

"International?" Frost said, as Jane examined the box.

"Made in Utah," she said, pulling out a piece and taking a bite. "Mmmmmmmm," she said. "This IS good...want a bite?"

Frost reached over and pulled out a couple of pieces, then smiled after he took a bite. "Giovanni chose well...this IS good."

"Or he got lucky," Jane said.

"Your mom DOES have a point, Jane," Frost said. "Maybe not about Giovanni. I agree with you - he's pretty harmless. Other guys, though, might not be as-"

"-well-intentioned," Jane interjected. "She's thinking of that Confederate refugee. Came off the Railroad, met a coed at BCU, kept sending her gifts, wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Heard NEI-5 put him in a dark hole after the assault," Frost said.

"You know I can't comment," replied the New England Intelligence agent. "You're right...Ma's right...Frankie...where's Frankie?"

Jane looked over at Frankie's and Korsak's empty desks.

"They caught a case," Frost said. "Dead girl found near the Navy Yard, 7:15 a.m."

"That must be the scene Maura went to...why aren't you there, Frost?"

"Cold case," he said, holding up a folder from his desk. "The one from 12 years ago with the blacksmith, that the family alleged Paddy Doyle was behind, before refusing to press charges."

"The mother showed up at the crime scene, then clammed up when asked to testify...Ma! Frost, I gotta go. Ma's gonna show up at that crime scene to talk to Frankie!...text me the address!"

Jane ran out and Frost reached for his cell, but couldn't find it on his desk. He got up to look around for it, then noticed something on the floor.

It was his CometPhone, underneath the heel of his shoe on his artificial foot. _How in hell did I miss that?_

Frost checked the phone, found no problems, texted Jane the address, then went back to his cold case. And, he wondered how much longer he could do this.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Boston's North End**

**Mass TelCom Stadium**

The logos of the Boston Redcoats NFL and North End FC MLS teams almost neatly framed the body of the young girl laying in the lawn, 40 meters from the stadium's Gate 4 entrance.

The only people on the scene, besides stadium and team employees, were Boston Police detectives and uniforms, plus the van from the Office of the Massachusetts Region Medical Examiner.

And, a civilian: Angela Rizzoli.

"Ma'am. I can't let you through," said Officer Demetrius Strong, responsible for guarding the crime scene and keeping out those who didn't need to be there. "Authorized personnel only."

"But I need to speak to my son, Detective Frankie Rizzoli JUNIOR," said Angela, looking past Officer Strong for Frankie, or Maura or even Korsak. "My daughter is being threatened."

Strong knew Jane very well, and heard about Angela through the grapevine. On the one hand, Angela could be...overtly concerned...and Jane could more than handle herself. On the other, if this was something serious, he needed to hear Angela out.

And she told him everything, what he needed to know and a lot he didn't. After learning that Angela's concern was Giovanni, he had no doubt Jane could handle it by herself.

But the mother didn't, and now, she was looking for her son.

"I need to speak with Frankie. Jane may be in danger."

In the distance, she saw Maura approaching the body, and began shouting for Maura, who pointed to the body and mouthed 'we'll talk later'. That wasn't good enough for Angela, who began loudly asking for Frankie, to the point where Officer Strong and his partner, Delia Manatos, debated taking her back to Division One for her own good.

Thankfully for everyone involved, Jane arrived, and took her mother off everyone else's hands.

"Ma! What on Earth are you doing?!" Jane whispered, after guiding Angela away from the officers - and crime scene - towards Jane's sedan. "This is a crime scene, Ma. You can't just go up and talk to Frankie or Korsak or Maura - or ME - here."

"But I needed to talk to Frankie. Or someone."

"Why, Ma?"

"You, honey," Angela said. "Giovanni...I'm worried about you."

"Aw Ma..." Jane brought her mother into a hug, despite her reservations about doing so at a crime scene. "Ma...I'll be fine. Really. Giovanni's harmless."

"No he isn't," Angela said. "Didn't you read about the woman in the Maritimes Republic, in Nova Scotia?"

"What woman in Nova Scotia?"

"Her ex-boyfriend kept asking her out, after she kept saying no and kept ignoring him. He wouldn't take no for an answer." Angela looked like she was about to cry.

"What happened, Ma?"

Angela looked at the crime scene, where she saw Frankie and Korsak standing over the body. "Well, they got married."

"Married? That's not so bad. As long as it was consensual."

"No, they agreed. But they got into a fight, and she beat him up. She's still in jail."

"She beat him UP?"

"I don't want you going to jail because you beat Giovanni up," Angela said. "Or him beating you up, or Maura-"

"Ma, come ON. Gio-"

"Don't 'come on' me, Jane Clementine," Angela admonished. "This man knows you are married, and keeps bringing you presents. You need to put a stop to it. To him."

Jane took a deep breath, then motioned for Officer Manathos to come over, and made Angela promise she would not leave the sedan IF Jane agreed to talk with her afterwards.

Finally satisfied that Angela wasn't going anywhere, Jane walked over towards where Korsak, Frankie and Maura were with the victim, dressed in a Boston Pilgrims T-shirt and yoga pants.

"Security guard found her an hour ago, lying there," Korsak said. "We've questioned the guard, other employees pulling into the parking lot over the past hour."

"No one heard anything out of the ordinary. No one saw anything unusual, other than the girl in the middle of the lawn," said Frankie.

"So the guard finds her lying there, dead," Jane mused, looking over the victim. "No blood. Any idea how she was killed, Maura?"

Maura looked up at Jane with a quizzical look.

"Care to guess, Dr. Isles?" Jane teased her wife.

"Her heart stopped beating." Maura said, straight, as Korsak and Frankie chuckled, while Jane grinned. "Maura Isles, making a joke at a crime scene," she said, winking right at Maura. "What will she do next?"

"One thing I will not do, Detective Rizzoli, is guess," Maura replied, seriously. "And you know I cannot determine a cause of death until I complete my examination at the morgue."

"God forbid you guess, Dr. Isles," Jane quipped. "Do you see anything out of the ordinary on the vic - besides her heart not beating."

"No I do not," Maura replied. "No wounds of any kind, no external bleeding. No marks on her body."

"Maybe she was poisoned," Frankie guessed.

"Or she simply dropped dead of a physical defect of some kind," Korsak said.

"Looks like you guys have your work cut out," Jane said. "Korsak. I'm gonna borrow Frankie for a minute."

Jane took Frankie nearby, underneath the North End FC logo, and filled him in on Angela's arrival.

"Ma's convinced Giovanni is up to no good and is some kind of threat to me," she said. "She showed up here to talk to YOU."

Frankie looked over towards Jane's sedan, where Angela was sitting in the front seat, next to Officer Manathos. "She should've waited, Jane. But she does have a point."

"It's Giovanni," Jane said.

"Look," Frankie replied. "I don't think he's a real threat either, to do anything other than be an annoying pain in the ass. He DOES keep coming back, again and again...he's like that dog, from the battery commercial. Never stops."

"Giovanni's not a dog," Jane said.

"You're defending him."

"No I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. How big WAS that Cuddly Bear, anyway?"

"About as big as that sign above us," Jane said. "Frankie...you're right. He is an annoying pain in the ass...but that's ALL he is."

"Don't you think it's time to put a stop to it?" Frankie said. "Tell him you and Maura are married."

"TELL him? Frankie. Our engagement AND wedding announcements were in the Dispatch. Maura was on the front cover of The Advocate. We marched in the Pride parade. And neither of us DATE MEN."

"Well," Frankie said, before pausing a beat. "He only reads the Sports section of the paper, the only magazines he reads are ones with girls, engines, or both, and he was probably at a drag race when the Pride Festival was going on. And after Maura turned him down? He fixated on you."

"Frank-ieeee!" Jane said, exasperated. "What am I gonna do?"

"Tell him you're married," Frankie said. "Pull out the wedding album, take him to the clerk's office and show him the marriage certificate, I don't know-"

Jane's phone buzzed, and she held up her hand. "Let me take this," she said, tapping a button on her Rocket phone to answer the call. "Rizzoli...yes...yes...WHAT?...WHEN?"

Jane's yelling got the attention of Maura, who motioned for the M.E. assistants to get the body and load it on the gurney, and Korsak, who had finished taking photos of the scene.

"How long?" Jane said with her eyes bugged out. "No, no...keep it there. I'm on my way. Thanks Frost." She put her phone back in her jacket pocket and looked at Maura, then her brother and Korsak. "You're not going to believe this."

"Believe what, Jane?" Maura said.

**Division One HQ**

"A genuine 1965 Industrial Motors Detroit," Jane said, as she, Maura, Frost, Korsak, Frankie and Angela surrounded the car, parked in front of the police station. "One of THE classic North American sports cars."

"And how do you know this?" Frost said. "You're not even into cars. Much less a muscle car like this."

"DiNozzo; he's a movie nut, told me that car's been in 39 different movies from '65 through 2012," Jane said. "And now it's mine."


	4. Chapter 3

After arranging for the Detroit to be parked in the building's garage, Jane went to the second-floor office leased by NEI.

"Look who showed up; how many years has it been since you punched a time clock, Rizzoli?"

NEI agent Joey Grant sat at his desk, punching a couple of buttons on the keyboard of his personal terminal [1] to hide what he was working on, then turned to his fellow agent. "We got rid of the coffee machine since you were here last time."

"Ha ha, Grant," Jane said, walking over to his desk. "Get up. I need your terminal. Don't worry. I won't tell Hoodie about the porn."

"Hilarious, Rizzoli," Grant replied. "They could get you your own terminal, if you'd put in a requisition form. Hell, they'd put it down in Homicide. You spend all your time there anyway. Why DON'T you ever come up and say hi."

"I do, sometimes," Jane said. "You're not around. Besides, I like my desk. Which happens to be in Homicide."

Grant chuckled. "Wanna give me one guess who you're looking for info on?"

"You already have, Grant, and his car's in the garage. Now, get up and move over," Jane said, as Grant tapped a couple of buttons to call up the desktop. A few minutes later, Jane and Grant had over a dozen files on Giovanni Gilberti open.

"What in hell are you up to, Giovanni?" Jane muttered as Grant looked over her shoulder.

"Guy's lovesick," Grant said, helpfully. "And dense. Even a brick wall would be able to see you and Maura are in love, and married. Didn't he go to the wedding? Or hear about it?"

Five minutes later, Jane's phone rang. It was Maura.

"Rizzoli...Maur?...really?...okay. I'm on my way down." Jane ended the call, got up, and stopped halfway out the door after Grant called to her.

"Jane. I can get that. I'll talk to Maura, you stay here and find out what's up with Loverboy," Grant said. "What am I talking to her about, by the way?"

Jane held up her palm. "I have this, Grant. Run his credit and debit cards, see what else he's purchased in the last week. Tell me if he's rented a hot air balloon or bought another cartful of bacon chocolate."

"ANOTHER cartful of bacon chocolate-" Grant said, but Jane was running down the hall, on her way to the elevator.

**The Morgue**

Jane nodded to Bruno, the NEI agent assigned to Maura's morgue and her laboratory who moonlighted as a wrestler.

"Hey. Saw that video you linked to on Chirp," Jane said to him, noting Maura and senior criminalist Susie Chang hovering over the victim. "You're way better than that Sheamus O'Farrell guy."

"Hoodie said Titan can't give me a push, and he thinks I have a great future in the intelligence community," said Bruno in a whisper. "You better talk to your wife."

"Something with the vic from the stadium?"

"Ask her about the Hartford Seven."

Jane walked over, and Maura and Susie explained how they think the victim died: a combination of heart failure and suffocation. The heart failure came from cyclostatics five times normally prescribed to a heart patient while the suffocation came from forced inhalation of helium.

"I also saw evidence of duct tape over her nose and mouth, and where someone removed the tape and tried to remove evidence of it," Maura said.

"So they gave her drugs to induce a heart attack, and made her breathe helium, then taped her mouth and nose so she couldn't exhale it, or breathe in oxygen?" Jane asked; Maura nodded. "You know anything about a Hartford Seven case?"

"I do," Maura said, matter of factly. "Seven co-eds between 19 and 22 were found dead in a Hartford College dorm room. This occurred seven years ago, before I became Chief M.E. for Massachusetts. I assisted the then-Chief M.E., Dr. T. Pike on the case."

"Oh boy. That must've been a blast," Jane quipped.

"It was not an unpleasant experience, not like when he was fired and I was appointed to his position," Maura replied. "The unpleasant part of it came after our examination."

"What happened?"

"The Hartford detectives, and NEI agents, found those girls were murdered by Confederate agents. They were marked, Jane, to be sold into slavery. Either as call girls in Atlanta, or as sex servants for Soviet oligarchs."

"Sex servants," Jane mused, trying to restrain her anger. "Forty seven UCNE females, and 16 males, either teenagers or college students have gone missing in the past 30 years. Fifty six were found, 20 alive, 36 dead...seven still unaccounted for."

"The Confederate State Security Agency seems-"

"Cissies, Maura," Jane interjected. "Call them what they are."

"Very well...the CISSIES seem to target the UCNE for this purpose more than any other North American country."

"They target California and the Plains too, Maur. They target their enemies specifically on this thing," Jane said. "California's had 29 women go missing since the 1960s. The Plains 26 women since the North American War. If they resist, the Cissies kill them. Just like this."

"Yes," Maura said, looking at her victim. "Her name is Victoria Adams, and she was a psychology student at BCU."

"Good Lord," Jane mused. "I'll get with Frost and Korsak, coordinate with Homicide, see if we can find the bastard who did this to her."

**Homicide**

Frost put up shots from two of the stadium's cameras and a city camera at a nearby intersection on a flat screen. The shots showed a large man dressed in a white jacket, white pants and white shoes, and a white wrestling mask stepping out of a U-Haul van at 503 a.m., parked on the street in front of the stadium. The man opened up the back, picked up the victim, then walked away from the van in the direction of the stadium. The footage then switched to the man walking across the lawn, laying her down, and running back to the U-Haul before driving away.

"I'll check on the U-Haul," Frankie said, walking to his desk to place a phone call.

"I'm guessing he's 6 foot 6, 275 pounds," Korsak said. "I'm going to make a phone call of my own."

"Call who?" Frost asked.

"A friend of mine knows the guy who makes masks for wrestlers," Korsak said. "He works out of his house in Chinatown. I'll give him a call, see if he sold one to a man fitting our description."

Jane hung back, watching Frost back to his desk, paying attention to his prosthetic leg. After he was cleared for desk duty following the accident, Jane watched him closely. Sometimes he was his old self; sometimes he was subdued. And, though he had been praised in therapy and by his doctors for adapting to the artificial leg, Jane still judged him with a harsher eye than most others would. By her standards - even though she really didn't have a say since NEI, not Boston Police, provided her paycheck - he wasn't yet ready.

"Frost. You, Maura, and me. Let's go run in the Marathon this year," Jane said.

Frost ignored the comment.

"C'mon. I'll get Maura to rename the charity. Or you won't have to wear the P.U.K.E. T-shirt," Jane continued, lightly punching him on the arm.

"I don't do marathons," he said, pulling up records on recent U-Haul rentals on his terminal. "Maybe we can puke for charity at a bowling alley."

"Ewww," Jane said, with a smile. "Though I would like to see Maura bowl. With those ugly shoes from the counter."

"She'll buy her own - and ours," Frost said. "You'll never get her to use that spray stuff anyway."

Both chuckled, then Jane stepped over to her desk and pulled out one of Giovanni's boxes of bacon chocolate. "You doing okay, Frost?" She offered him a piece out of the box, which he readily accepted.

"I'm fine, Jane," he said, glancing downward at his prosthesis. "Really. I'm doing okay."

"It's not the same without you in the field," Jane replied.

"Frankie's doing great; he's getting experience," Frost added. "If I hadn't...been out for so long, he might still be in Vice, working under Martinez."

"Now he's here, and so are you," Jane continued. "I want to see you back out there. Taking down dirtbags, running them down. When do you start running?"

Frost didn't say anything, then glanced at the box of bacon chocolates. "When are you going to do something about Giovanni?"

Jane pursed her lips, realizing Frost was right - and that he wasn't ready yet to talk about going back into the field. So she would drop the subject.

"Okay," she said. "Giovanni. I don't think any of this is a big deal."

"Big deal?"

"He's not stalking me, he's not stalking my wife, he's not acting threateningly or aggressively," Jane said. "He's sending ridiculous stuff. A Vermont Cuddly Bear as big as a grizzly. The chocolate - which is really good", Jane said, pulling out another piece. "The car, which is over the top, but kinda cool."

"Your mom's worried," Frost said. "She called me this morning. She talked to me downstairs at the cafe yesterday."

"Ma's blowing things out of proportion-"

"Maybe," Frost said. "You feel safe talking to him."

"Giovanni? Yeah. Of course. He won't do anything."

"Then maybe you need to talk to him, set him straight, pardon my pun," Frost said. "Tell him you're in love with Maura, show him the certificate. And bring me and Frankie with you."

"What?" Jane said. "Come on, Frost. Giovanni's not gonna beat me up. He COULDN'T beat me up. And I don't appreciate the chauvinism coming from you, of all people."

"Jane. I'm not being chauvinistic. I'm saying don't go into a situation like that without backup," Frost replied. "Hell, while Frankie and Korsak are working this case, call Giovanni up, tell him to meet you somewhere to talk. This afternoon."

"This afternoon." Jane raised her eyebrows. "Dead vic, carbon copy of the Hartford Seven case. I'm involved with this, too."

"All the reason to get Giovanni squared away," Frost said, "so we can catch that bastard."

Jane saw the fire in Frost's eyes, and smiled. "If it gets you off your ass and walking with that plastic peg leg of yours, deal," she said. "Grant and I are running checks on him anyway."

"Find anything unusual?"

"Grant's still running-" she stopped talking when she heard a loud trumpet behind her.

She turned, seeing a mariachi band between the elevator and the entrance into Homicide. The trumpet player was inside the door, and everyone, on a phone or not, had their eyes glued to the scene.

Even Lt. Cavanaugh came out of his office to see what was going on. Grant, looking for Jane, stepped off the elevator and walked into the back of an accordion player.

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli?" yelled the trumpet player.

After briefly considering pointing to Detective Riley Cooper, or even Frankie, Jane raised her hand. Without a word, the band broke into song; when it finished, almost everyone broke into applause, while Jane wanted to hide underneath the floor.

Then the vihuela guitarist - and one of the singers - stepped forward, pulled a card out of his jacket, and handed it to Jane.

"Giovanni Gilberti requests your presence for a lovely dinner, senorita," he said, "tonight at 8 p.m. At which he will make an announcement."

Then the band moved to leave, but Jane and Grant stopped them. After interrogating all 11 members, they determined that Giovanni had hired them the day before, paid them in cash, and gave the bandleader the card he wanted Jane to have. And that Giovanni made him swear not to tell him the location, but it was on the card.

"So open it," Grant said, as he and Frost looked over her shoulders.

She opened the card.

_Jane Clementine Rizzoli_

_I request your presence tonight at 8 p.m._

_For a lovely dinner, wine and song_

_After which I will make an announcement_

_Meet me at The Dirty Robber_

"The Dirty Robber? That's the best he could come up with?" Jane shouted. "Jeez. He's seen Maura and I in our booth - HERS and MY booth - a hundred times. We're supposed to go there tonight - or were, until this case-"

"And you'll go there tonight," Cavanaugh said, inserting himself into the conversation. "I just got off the phone with your boss. Word about the young woman in Dr. Isles' morgue has gone all the way to the top - to the Marshal General himself. He wants our best people on it, and that includes you, Rizzoli."

"Cava - sir. I apologize for all this, I'll take care-"

"Agent Rizzoli, I believe you," Cavanaugh said. "That you'll take care of it, and that Gilberti is harmless. But if he persists, that's interference we can't afford to have, not if the Confederates are involved. So - go to dinner, tell him you're married to someone else, and end this. So you can get back to doing what you're best at."

As Cavanaugh walked away, Grant looked at the card.

"Sounds simple to me, Jane," Frost said. "If you can get him to believe you."

"She better," Grant said.

"Or you'll get him, Jane?" Frost quipped.

"No, the Marshal General will," Jane said. "Right now he's technically interfering with an NEI agent. Agency protocol is if the situation is non-threatening, let the agent handle it. If the perpetrator continues to act out, even in a non- threatening manner, then the agency gets involved. And if this case is as big as I think it might be - the Marshal General will put him out of action for the duration."

[1] What people in this universe call a personal computer.

[2] After the incident involving former Boston PD detective Bobby Marino, and the assault on Division One headquarters by a CSS-backed local gang, NEI established an office in the building, and put a roaming agent on the premises and another in Maura's morgue.


	5. Chapter 4

**Giovanni Gilberti's apartment**

"Hey man, I've learned my lesson," Giovanni said, standing in his kitchen, straightening his tie.

"What's that, bro?" his guest said, sitting at the table eating a Paul Revere's Sub sandwich. Neither of them made note of the stink from the man's work jacket and shirt, although the woman Giovanni was headed to see definitely would.

"Don't lick chicks on the cheek," Giovanni replied, and his guest raised his eyebrows.

"What the hell kinda lesson is that?" he replied back, with a laugh. "What in hell are you into, bro?"

"Chicks don't like you to ask them if you can lick them. Well - one or two are cool with it. The others ain't. Too many of them don't like it to make it worth your while."

The guest shook his head. "If you say so, bro," he said. "Where's this place again you're meeting your lady at?"

"The Dirty Robber," Giovanni said. "That's where Jane and her friend meet up at all the time?"

"You make sure the 'friend' ain't gonna be there? Thought you said the friend was a dy-"

"Dude!" Giovanni interjected. "Don't call Dr. Isles that. It ain't cool, okay?"

For the first time since he began working and hanging out with Gilberti, he noticed the guy pissed off in a non-work situation. "Alright, sorry. The friend-"

"Dr. Isles."

"-DOCTOR ISLES, she likes chicks, right?"

"Yeah. But I don't use slurs. That's homophobic. I'm no homophobe."

"Me neither, bro...I like chicks into chicks, you know?" the guest winked, and Giovanni grinned.

"Me too, dude...but I like chicks more who are into dudes. Like me." Giovanni picked his phone off the counter, and looked for Jane's phone number. "You can shower here if you want. You told me earlier you've going on a date?"

_I got a date alright._ "Yeah. Late date. I think the place I'm going to meet her is a...concert. Yeah. Starts at 9."

"Cool," Giovanni said. "What's her name?"

"J.C. ...JayCee," the guest said. "Good lookin', too. Tall, dark haired, smokin' hot."

"Really?" Giovanni said. "Got a pic?"

"Ah...uh, no," the guest replied. "Deleted it accidentially. I'll be sure to take a pic at the concert, though...aint'cha got a date to get to?"

"Yeah," Giovanni said, heading towards the front door. "I'll give you a buzz if me and Jane come here to...continue the date...if you catch my drift." Giovanni chuckled.

The guest laughed. "Or I will call YOU if JayCee and I come back here to continue OUR date," he said with a wink. Giovanni laughed, wished him luck, and left.

The guest pulled out his smartphone, heading to the guest room where he had stayed for the past eight weeks. He noticed the slash on his arm starting to heal up - he told Giovanni it came from a screwdriver he bumped up against in the garage and he bought it.

He opened a secure app, punched a few lines to bypass the public UniNet and onto a secured underground connection, then pinged his associate.

_* you in position?_

_da am at the bar eating dinner_

_the police discovered the body quickly_

_* good that's what we wanted right_

_did they see you_

_* nobody saw me i was in and out of there before anybody from the stadium could've seen me_

_passersby?_

_* hell no street was empty no crowds of any size at that corner except for game day_

_how is your injury_

_* healing up told goofus I cut myself on a straight screwdriver_

_and he believed you_

_* hell yeah he's a goofass he thinks the woman's interested in him you know how much money he spent trying to win her over - and she's married to another woman_

_* what I am interested in is the success of this operation_

_you think i'm not?_

_* I'm interested in one thing, 'Bubba'_

_money_

_* ..._

_women?_

_* those are...primary in general. secondary to this operation_

_don't worry, i've got this_

_* good. your employers did not make me your handler as a joke. _

_i know your background, comrade. and you know mine_

_* and we know how seriously your, our employers regard this operation. _

_yeah, no dirty cops, no mongrel street gangs_

_* how reliable is your intel on the officer?_

_pretty. he's told me a lot. they kept in touch until he got weird on her_

_* and you consider this a good use of our time?_

_look. he can get me closer to her than if I was a random stranger. nei still looks the other way when friends of friends interact with their people. this way, i can get close to them both, off him, take her_

_* your intel better be right_

_i've done this job for 12 years, son, kicking ass and taking names by myself. I make my own luck_

_* that is good, comrade. you would not want to be unlucky if you fail_

_just stay out of trouble, ok? we'll have her secured and be on our way back to hotlanta by midnight_

**Outside Giovanni's apartment**

The 24-year-old woman behind the wheel of the Suburban - and the 30-year-old man in the passenger seat furiously typing away at his laptop - were both ready to roll on a moment's notice.

"I've downloaded the conversation," said NEI-5 agent Paul Cho. "They really think they're on a secured channel. I gave the KGB AND the CSS more credit than this...you're sure we're not being played?" Cho chuckled when he said it, but NEI-5 agent Linda Houghton noted the concern in his eyes.

"You have nothing to worry about, Cho," she said. "People way above either of our pay grades have looked into the guy, and he's the real deal. So's the guy he spoke to."

"Who's supposed to be at The Dirty Robber," Cho replied. "Why not bring him in now?"

"He won't talk. He also has pull with the Soviet Embassy. We move now, we blow our cover. We catch him trying to abduct one of our own - or worse - we have him, dead to rights," she said. "That's 101-level stuff, Cho. Your nose has been behind that laptop way too long."

**Jane and Maura's home**

Maura went through her, and Jane's, closets for more than a half-hour looking for the right outfit for her 'date'. Satisfied with her choices, Maura gave them to Jane, then looked her over with a keen eye after Jane finished dressing.

"A simple, but elegant, black dress from Pierre Paul with the earrings I found at Hartson's that match your hair and eyes perfectly," Maura said, as Jane stood there in their bedroom. "The necklace - not too flashy, but elegant-"

"And it would pay for an entire semester's worth of tuition, books, room and board for Cailin at BCU," Jane said.

"She's on scholarship at the University of Indianapolis, and the Todd family is looking after her," Maura stated. "I do see your point, although the cost of the necklace would also cover incidentals, assuming she lived conservatively and refrained from alcohol and drug use. And, also, consumption of caffeine, especially having the use only of my kidney."

"Oh nooooooooo, Maura, we wouldn't want her to abuse your kidney with a latte," Jane cracked. "How is she doing, anyway? Last I heard she moved into her dorm room."

"She is getting to know her - our - real mother, and the entire Todd family is involved in her life."

"The entire family? Rachel's in Washington. Kate's here in Boston, trying to keep Ma out of her hair and humor Ma's conspiracy theories," Jane said. "I owe her, by the way."

"And Caitlin will collect. Soon," Maura said with a smile and a nod. "She says to tell you that 'Jane is welcome for my running interference and keeping Angela away from The Dirty Robber'. Now put your heels on."

"I can't wear flats?" Jane said.

"Those are patent leather pumps from Ingrid Christiane," Maura pouted. "They match the rest of your outfit so perfectly. Now put them on. Please."

Jane couldn't resist 'please'.

"Is it too late to call Gibbs and fly him in to Gibbsslap Giovanni a dozen times until he leaves me alone?"

"We're not going to 'Gibbsslap' Giovanni nor resort to any other form of violence," Maura said. "Now let me check your makeup." Maura looked over her wife's face - a touch up of mascara here, a brush of powder there, and lip gloss. Then she took Jane by the hand and led her to their full-length mirror, and the agent was stunned.

"Wow...WOW. You did me up great, Maura," Jane said. "Too great. Giovanni's gonna tackle me...this is GIOVANNI. I should be in a blouse and jeans-"

"Who said I did this for him, Jane Clementine Rizzoli," Maura said innocently, then brushed her lips against Jane's cheek, before blowing in her ear.

"Later. Tonight," she whispered, seductively, before stepping back and switching her demeanor into business mode. "Right now, you have a job to do."

"Get rid of Giovanni. Tell him you and I are married, forever and ever."

"Spill the beans about it. Knock some sense into his head," Maura said, sounding more like her sister Kate. "Don't put up with any more crap from him. Gibbssmack him if you have to. Who's your backup?"

"Backup?" Jane said. "Come on. I'm meeting Giovanni for dinner at The Dirty Robber. I'm overdressed. We're gonna order burgers and fries-"

"You'll order from whatever the waitress suggests, which I suspect will be healthy and organic-"

"Maura. Did you...what did you do?"

"I merely contacted the restaurant, spoke with the manager, and requested that the waitress on duty provide you with a specialized menu," Maura stated.

"You CALLED The Dirty Robber?"

"I have, as always, your best interest in mind," Maura said.

"You called THE DIRTY ROBBER?"

"Speaking of your best interests," Maura continued. "I called Detective Frost and asked him to dispose of the bacon chocolate Giovanni left for you at the station."

"You called The Dir-you called Frost. You told him what?"

"Assuming you consumed your usual borderline healthy lunch fare, based on the 1,272 calories; 84 grams of fat; 48 grams of saturated fat; 60 milligrams of cholesterol; and over 1,500 milligrams of sodium you consumed in the six slices Detective Frost said you ate, I estimate you have consumed over 2,500 calories so far today," Maura stated.

"Maur. What else did you do?"

"Oh. I ordered a treadmill."

"A WHAT?"

"Yes. When you return from your dinner, you will change into your running outfit and run for an hour. That should burn at least 600 calories. Between that, and the other physical activities I have in store for us, and the salad you will eat on your 'date'-"

"Oh look, Maura. I'm going to be late for my 'date'," Jane said, exaggeratedly, pointing to Maura's watch. "I better leave so I get there in time to dump Giovanni and eat whatever tree leaves you ordered for me, then get back home to run for an HOUR and do whatever 'physical activities' you have in mind. Speaking of, I have a question."

"As do I."

"Me first," Jane said. "How many calories can you burn during sex?"

Maura's eye-roll made Jane wonder how much Kate - and Rachel - had rubbed off on her. Or, that Maura really was a Todd, and not the wonderful, amazing product of the sperm donor Paddy Doyle and the birth mother Hope Martin, as everyone thought for a short while.

"Now I have a question," Maura said. "Who's your backup?"

"Backup?"

"Yes. Even you would not go into that situation by yourself."

"Frost," Jane said. "Who's probably hoarding that bacon chocolate you asked him to 'dispose' of. And I suspect he's not my only backup." Jane narrowed her eyes at her wife.

"Hmm?" Maura tried to look innocent.

"Frost is supposed to be working the case with Korsak and Frankie," Jane said. "So it can't be one of them, not unless they've solved it in the last two hours. So come on...SPILL THE BEANS." Jane raised an eyebrow.

"Well," Maura said. "I asked Agent Grant if he knew of someone who had a surveillance van that wasn't being used."

"Joey..."

"And he assured me that NEI would provide one, free of charge, and he would be pleased to help Detective Frost in your, ah-"

"Surveillance."

"Well...to keep you company," Maura said. "He, I, and two more of your colleagues."

"Watching from a van."

"Well, yes," Maura said.

"While Frost eats a burger and fries, and I munch on calorie-free grass and twigs breaking up with Giovanni."

"Again, yes."

"We better get going, then," Jane said. "Running on that treadmill of yours for an hour already sounds more fun."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chinatown, Boston, Massachusetts, UCNE**

**His Majesty's Wigs**

"Really? A wig shop?" said Frankie as he got out from the passenger side of Korsak's car, parked in front of the small shop wedged between a Paul Revere's [1] and a Rexall's [2].

"What's wrong with wigs?" Korsak said, joining Frankie on the sidewalk, near the shop's entrance.

"Nothin'" Frankie replied. "Guess I thought if this guy made masks for wrestlers, he'd work out of a gym. How does your friend know the owner?"

"Mr. Lee is Ming's uncle," Korsak said, "and he makes masks for wrestlers on the local and major league circuits. He also makes ladies' hats, and wigs, for everyone from chemo patients to drag queens. He's well-known around Boston."

"Not as well-known as Ted Williams," Frankie said. "I've never heard of him."

"You didn't read the Dispatch article in its Society section last year?" Korsak said. "Mr. Lee emigrated here from Red China indirectly. He sneaked across the border with the CFR, then to Hawaii, California, and the Great Plains before settling here. His customers include politicians, debutantes, actresses, and pop music stars."

"And he's not living in a mansion?" Frankie said, glancing at the elaborate wigs along the front window framing the entrance.

"He lives here," Korsak said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "What Frost's mother and her partner do with anti-Confederate organizations. Mr. Lee does with similar organizations in Red China. Covertly."

"Ahhhh," Frankie whispered back. "I'm sure the guy has plenty to do. Let's not keep him waiting."

Both detectives walked in the main entrance, hearing a bell as they opened the door, but seeing no one.

"Jane said if I ever bought her a wig, she'd kill me," Frankie said, looking at a particularly long neon-pink curly wig.

"That around the time of Dr. Isles' Mardi Gras party?" Korsak said as Frankie nodded. "Dr. Isles got the last laugh."

"I heard," said Frankie as Korsak chuckled; Frankie was on a stakeout with vice at the time, and unable to attend. "Mainly from Tommy. All Jane would say was 'I swear you to secrecy and there are NO photos'."

"You believe that?" Korsak said.

"Not for a second," Frankie replied, as he walked up to the counter. "Hello? Hello? Anyone home?" he yelled, and moments later a smallish Chinese man came into the showroom from a back office.

Korsak bowed in greeting - Frankie following after a moment of confusion about what Korsak was doing - and Mr. Lee bowed in reply.

"Mr. Lee, you can help us," Korsak said, calling up the photo of the driver of the U-Haul on his Rocket smartphone. "Do you know this man?"

Mr. Lee studied the photo, and handed back the phone to Korsak, shaking his head. "I do not recognize him at first glance, no, Detective," he said.

"The mask looked like one of the masks in the photo from the Dispatch article, and Ming said your wrestling masks are very distinctive," Korsak replied. "I had wondered if this man had shopped at your store, or perhaps someone purchased it for him."

Mr. Lee gestured for Korsak to hand the phone back to him; he took it, then pinched to zoom in on the man's head, and mask. "This could be one of my masks; 'Qing Dynasty'," he said. "Not lucha. I seem to remember selling such a mask recently. I should know to who but I am having trouble recalling the buyer."

"Any details you can tell us would be very helpful, and most appreciated," Frankie said.

"This man, how tall is he? And weight?" Mr. Lee asked.

"Five inches; I'm 6-foot-1," Frankie said. "And 275 pounds."

"A big guy?" Mr. Lee said. "Yes, yes. Now I remember. He came in one day, looking for a mask. He said he could not find one in town, and was told he could buy one here. I showed him my collection and he picked the Qing model. He gave no reason. He seemed anxious to purchase it."

"Did he pay with a credit or debit card?" Frankie said.

"He paid with cash," Mr. Lee said, handing Korsak back his phone.

"So we can't run the card," Korsak said.

"Industrial dollars, not Commonwealth pounds; I accept both," Mr. Lee said. "But this man, he left in a hurry, and left something behind." The diminutive owner hurried back to his office - holding up a finger to signal to the detectives to stay - and quickly returned with a business card.

A familiar business card.

"Giovanni's garage?" Korsak said. "Run the address on the back."

"Running now," Frankie said, searching a database used by UCNE civilian and military law enforcement and NEI. He quickly got a hit.

"You're not gonna believe this, Korsak," Frankie said. "Address is the apartment of Giovanni Gilberti."

"This also fell out of his coat pocket," Mr. Lee said, handing over a yellow slip . Carroll's Dry Cleaners, with a line signifying where the bill could be sent: the address matched the one on the back of the card.

Korsak dialed Division One.

"Where's Frost?" Korsak said. "On assignment?...NEI?...ok - get me Lynn...Lynn. Detective Korsak. Detective Rizzoli - Frankie - is going to text you an address. Get a warrant for security camera footage from the apartment complex - that's correct, I know it's an apartment complex - and tell Judge Preston to fast-track it. I need it ASAP."

Frankie glanced at the camera above the counter's cash register, then addressed Mr. Lee. "Sir, may we have permission to use your footage from that day as part of our investigation?"

"Certainly, but I will need to call my granddaughter; she is the one who set up the security system, and digitized the footage," he said, going back to his office to place the call.

"Next step would be to go by Giovanni's garage - or the complex - and ask about the guy," Frankie said.

"The complex, then," Korsak said. "Then The Dirty Robber - his garage is closed for the day but we know we'll find him there."

[1] The dominant coffee shop/cafe chain of the United Commonwealth of New England, established 1972.

[2] The UCNE's dominant drug store chain, with franchises in the nations of Maine, New England, Vermont and the Maritimes.


End file.
